I've started and stopped writing this post about 10 times since the race, just because it's so hard to put the experience down in words but I'm going to do my darndest and apologize in advance for the length....
I never thought that moving in a forward direction for 13.1 miles was going to be easy. If it was, I wouldn't have set it as a goal. I wouldn't have started a blog to follow the process! I knew this body wasn't meant for endurance sports but it was just crazy enough that I wanted to do it. I wanted something that would completely challenge and wow, I just did not realize how much of a challenge it was going to be.
Unlike my first attempt at a distance run, I was fully invested in the training for this. That's not to say I didn't hit some rough patches, as you all read about on here but I always got back up and kept going on. If you are a somewhat regular reader of this blog you will also know about three weeks before the race I developed some serious pain in my right foot. Whenever I would run pain would radiate to up my calf, through my bad ankle and out my big toe. Not a good thing for sure. I started a pretty intense regime of NSAIDS and physical therapy in an attempt to get whatever it was taken care of. With rest, the hard lump of inflamed muscle/tendon/ligament seemed to soften a bit but my PT warned my it wouldn't go away without a serious, prolonged rest period so that it could heal. Well, you all know I'm stubborn and was not about to waste that much money because my body decided to revolt. So we came up with a stretching and pain med plan we hoped would help but it was made clear to me that it wouldn't be IF it started hurting, it would be WHEN it started hurting and would come down to how much pain I could stand. And that my friends is where our story begins....
The morning of the race we got up bright and early. Like seriously 3:15am. We had to be on the monorail by 4:00am to check in and make it to our corral on time so needless to say, it was an early morning. Combine that with the fact that the nervousness boiling up inside of me threatened to show itself as projectile vomit and I was a bit out of sorts. I had my support team there, Cindy, Tom and my amazing hubby were running with me and did there best to calm me down. The energy was amazing. It was one of those times when I was proud to be a human. People helping each other, sharing glitter and tiaras to make sure we were all decked out in our princess finery, letting each other cut in the bathroom (which if you've ever been at a large scale running event is a BIG DEAL) The first wave of runners crossed the start line at 5:35am and we started slowly working our way toward the start. It took us just under an hour to actually get to the start line and then the countdown started. Two minutes! One minute! 10,9,8.... GO!
The rush of adrenaline that came with actually getting over the start line and being able to start the journey propelled us along well for the first 3 miles. Aside from losing time in the lines for the porta potties (We may have drank a bit to much waiting to start and it's really hard to go with a tutu on, just saying) we set a fairly decent pace those first 3 miles. Then, it sort of started going downhill from there. I was able to ignore the foot pain up until that point but it started to get more and more intense. I had to start walking a lot more than I wanted to and the pacers began to creep up on us. (remember you have to keep a 16:00min/mile pace for all runDisney races) Around about mile 4.5 it was clear to me that I was going to have to walk most if not all the rest of the race. The pain was getting more and more intense with every step. As we came out on the other side of Magic Kingdom, I sent Cindy and Tom ahead. There was no way I was going to have them not finish because of me. They had worked just as hard training. The hubs stayed right by me, even though I wanted him to go on.
We made it to mile 7 right with the pacers but heading into mile 8, I knew they were going to sweep the slow runners and my moral took a dive. I began convincing myself that I was a failure, that there was no way I was going to finish. I started crying. The low blood sugar, combined with the pain and the fear of being an utter failure in the one thing I had been working towards for over a year hit me all at once. Kyle stayed right with me. Never doing anything except telling me he was going to stay with me the whole time and no matter what happened he was so proud of how far I had come. (I mean seriously did I hit the man jackpot or what???) Anyway!
As we came into the stretch before mile 8, I could see the buses and the volunteers ready to cut off those who were to slow. The pacers were about 30 seconds ahead of us. Up until that point I had just resigned myself to the fact that I was going to get picked up and not finish. I had made up my mind that I couldn't go on and that I just needed to stop. But something happened that to this day I can't explain, I started running! I didn't say anything to Kyle, I just took off. Every step caused me to tear up from pain but I kept sprinting until we were ahead of the pacers enough to not get picked up. We had made it past the sweep. Kyle just smiled, told me to take a drink and we kept going. By this point we were walking the entire time. Any time I would release the tension on my calf muscle my foot would flop down as if I had no ligament or muscle tone at all... not good right? But we kept going. We didn't know if there was another pick up or not so we stayed as close to the pacers as possible. We passed the 9 mile mark still going. We passed the 10 mile mark slowing down a little but still going. At that point my mental game switched from "I can't do this" to "Huh it would be stupid to stop at this point, right?"
Mile 10-11 were really challenging for my poor foot as it was on a highway on- ramp with a very uncomfortable grade to it. There was also a solider from Toy Story at mile 10.5 yelling at people like a drill sergeant that I wanted to punch in the face but luckily for him I still had some self control that that point. But I digress... Mile 11 marked the runners being back on Epcot property, the start and finish of the race. The sun came out at the point which made it really hot and really humid. But we kept going. The pacers were still in our sights, albeit a bit in front of us, but we were still going. Mile 11 had Kelly Clarkson's "Stronger" blaring and as cliche as it sounds, I so needed that at that moment. I was able to push out the pain and just focus on the words of the song for that little bit of time and it helped a lot. At mile 12 we were in the actual park area of Epcot. 1.1 to go, 1.1 to go I kept thinking. We went past the "Epcot Ball", past a Starbucks. OMG How I wanted to stop for a drink. Tall, non fat iced mocha please!! Everyone kept saying "you're almost there, you're doing great!" Which was really nice, up until about 14th person said "you're almost there!" To which I replied "EVERYONE KEEPS SAYING THAT!" Made Kyle laugh but afterwards I felt kinda bad. We rounded mile 13 and a gospel choir was singing, which was very nice! Gave me a bit of get up and go.
We turned around the back of a building and there it was. The finish line. Yes the spectator stands were mostly empty and most of the runners had already finished but I didn't care. As we got closer I could feel myself getting choked up but I was in no way shape or form prepared for the rush of emotion to come. Kyle and I grabbed hands, I gathered every last ounce of anything I had left and we ran across the finish line together, hands held high, just as I envisioned we would. The moment we crossed that finish line I just lost it.. 1.5 years of prep, 13.1 miles of pain were over and we had finished. I was doing that gross, heaving, embarrassing sobs in public and I didn't even care. Judging from the sympathetic smiles from the volunteers I don't think I was the only one who had an emotional breakdown at the finish line. Kyle just hugged me and told me how proud he was of me, which of course made me cry more. Then I got my medal which also made me cry more. And then I saw that my sister, Tom and my niece and nephew had waited in the stands that whole time which also made me cry so I was just one big sweaty, cry-y exhausted mess. But I had kept my body moving in a forward direction for 13.1 miles.......
So there it is in all it's real, messy, TMI, unflattering truth. The story of my not- so-ideal first 1/2 marathon. And I just want to make it very clear I wouldn't have been able to write this without the support of you all, my family, my sister and Tom, of course Cindy and most of all my amazing, supportive, wonderful husband, Kyle. You all mean the world to me.
I'm working on my thoughts after the race. Check back for post- race analysis and my thoughts on what's coming up.
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